


The Letter

by TheLittleMuse



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 18:09:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleMuse/pseuds/TheLittleMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo is blackmailed by someone who has kidnapped Frodo to steal the Arkenstone. Thorin learns about this only after Bilbo has left Erebor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Letter

_This is my confession._

_Before you ever came to my door a man of Bree kidnapped my nephew, Frodo, and demanded for his return one thing. The Arkenstone._

_How, or why he ever thought I would be able to get him the Stone I do not know and I despaired for a long while, for how could a Hobbit in the Shire ever lay his hands on the Heart of The Mountain? The man had already killed Frodo’s parents and had taken to torturing Frodo, who is but a boy. He would not stop for such trivialities as logic._

_I truly do not believe Gandalf ever knew of this, but whatever Gandalf knew, and whatever the man knew, you know the circumstances which led to you coming to my door that night._

_At first I was overjoyed. This, as impossible as the task seemed, was my chance. But then I began to truly despair. I got to know you, got to know the Company. I had always known my task would end in betrayal, but my guilt was easily assuaged because Frodo’s life was on the line. But now I knew that, whatever I did, I would betray those I loved._

_I have never felt a kinship, a friendship, or any sense of belonging as I did in the Company, and it is a wound I will always carry that I have broken it._

_In the end, Frodo always had to come first for me._

_I don’t expect you ever to forgive me, but I beg you to consider this: Erebor’s fate does not rest with the Arkenstone. Thorin, you will make a great leader, a great king, and Erebor will stand tall once again, but, if you will allow me to advise, this will only happen if, for the moment, you forget the Arkenstone. Erebor has many thousand of brilliant treasures. Erebor needs to be rebuilt to its former glory before any search for the Arkenstone can be undertaken._

_Hate me if you must. I understand._

_I have not taken a penny else from Erebor._

_Yours most humbly,_

_Bilbo Baggins_

Thorin put the letter down. He could feel the hate and the anger coiling in his gut, only to be soured by the fact that … he could understand. He did understand. If it had been a choice between his nephews and the Arkenstone, he would have chosen his nephews every time.

No one must know of this. His Company would wonder where their Burglar had gone, and he would tell them, in the utmost secrecy. They could think of Bilbo what they wished, but they would tell no one else. He had a feeling they could at least sympathise though.

As for the others, those returning to Erebor, he would announce … he would announce. He would announce that the Arkenstone had been returned to the ground, as it had been the curse that had brought Smaug in the first place.

Bilbo had been right about one thing, obsessing over the Arkenstone would only bring them grief.

Still, there was a sharp, growing pain at the loss of Erebor’s greatest treasure. The King’s Jewel. He could give Bilbo the most reluctant of pardons, but he knew he could not rest, nor would his task be done, until the Arkenstone once again rested in Erebor. The thought of some grubby, worthless man pawing it made him physically sick.

…

Bilbo watched Frodo playing with a laugh. He didn’t know how either of them were approaching even vaguely sane. Frodo had seen his parents murdered by a madman, and then been tortured by said madman. Bilbo had gone an adventure that completely changed him and betrayed the best friends he had ever had (and perhaps the love of his life) in order to save Frodo’s life. 

And here they were nine years later. Although they weren’t exactly the most respectable family in the Shire, the Hobbits tolerated them easily enough. Frodo had had a much easier time making friends than Bilbo did. Partly because there was something about Frodo that was innately likeable and partly because children tended to care a lot less about respectability than adults did.

They were happy, and although Bilbo couldn’t think of Erebor, Thorin and the Company without regret, he would defend his decision to the last.

…

It had been many years since the reclaiming of Erebor and the subject that Thorin had forced himself to turn away from all those years ago had reappeared. Thorin, with Erebor now comfortably and secure, decided that now was the time to reach out to Bilbo. To let him know that a tentative forgiveness had been forged, and the bonds that had been formed within the Company still existed.

Thorin rode along the long, winding path that led to the Shire. After all these years, and with Erebor once more at its former glory and as stable as ever, Thorin had consulted with the whole Company and they had all felt that they should mend their relationship with their Burglar. After all, despite everything else, Bilbo had been pretty vital when it came to it, and they all had grown to like Bilbo over the journey.

And so that was how Thorin, accompanied by Dwalin, found himself once more on the road to the Shire.

The tree giggled.

Or rather, something _in_ the tree giggled. Thorin tensed and Dwalin’s hand was automatically moving to his war hammer.

“Shut up!”

“You shut up!”

“They’ve heard us! They’re going to kill us!”

“Both of you shut up.”

_Hobbits can pass unseen by most if they wish._

Three child hobbits then. Thorin almost smiled and raised his hand, signalling to Dwalin to loosen his grip on his war hammer.

“Good sirs,” he called up, and Dwalin hid a smile of his own, “you are too good for us. We can hear you but cannot see you.”

“Hah!”

“Shush!”

Two younger, one elder? Or, at least, there was one who was in charge.

“Brave Hobbits, we seek one Bilbo Baggins, pray direct us?”

There was a muffled argument and one Hobbit descended. Thorin could tell he had an old leg wound, old so it no longer hindered him, but serious enough that it affected his step. He had a mop of curly black hair and his eyes were challenging him.

“What do you want with my Uncle?”

“You must be Frodo.”

Frodo gave a quick nod. There was silence from the younger hobbits in the trees. Thorin got down from his pony and knelt before Frodo.

“Master Frodo, I mean Bilbo no harm. We have come to mend a friendship that should have been mended a long time ago.”

Frodo gave him another hard look (and how did something so small give such a look?) and nodded.

…

Bilbo was sitting on the bench in his front garden having a nice, relaxing smoke when Frodo came rushing up to him, babbling about Thorin, dwarves and mending friendships.

Perhaps he should stop smoking in his garden? Everything seemed to happen when he sat there.

But he saw Thorin and Dwalin walking the winding path up to Bag End, looking, not angry or vengeful, but peaceful, accepting and, dare he say it, affectionate. Thorin, as soon as he was close enough, scooped him up into a hug and Bilbo allowed himself to relax, just a little.

The Arkenstone still hung over them, though, even as Thorin pronounced that Bilbo’s actions had shown him that a city was more than a stone, and that thought had prevented him succumbing to the gold sickness as his grandfather had.

Thorin and Dwalin left after eating, staying the night and extracting a promise from Bilbo to visit some time with Frodo. It was bittersweet because they all knew that Thorin could never now look at Bilbo without thinking of the Arkenstone. The Heart of The Mountain. And Bilbo didn’t really know whether he would fulfil his promise, even with the tentative friendship between them. He thought he might prefer his memories of the adventure, and the friendship he had always treasured rather than return and risk loosing it all once again.

Someday he might return, though. He dreamed of it even as he feared it.

Someday.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so this was inspired by two little thoughts - obviously - what if Bilbo was blackmailed into actually stealing the Arkenstone (and I think I might have made Thorin a little OOC in his level of forgivingness, but I was thinking more of an after the battle Thorin, when he isn't being ruled by his gold lust, he's wondering where Bilbo is and then he reads the letter.)
> 
> It's also inspired by the beginning of Fellowship - Bilbo's forever been saying 'I want to see the mountains again,' but has always been putting it off. Frodo wants to encourage him and perhaps come with him, but he also wants to stay in the Shire. So this was my little backstory to that.


End file.
